A Barrier Broken
by A.Boleyn
Summary: DL. A postNot What It Looks Like oneshot, Lindsay's POV. What happens immediately after the hug? Danny and Lindsay walk and talk. Pure, total 100 organic fluff.


**Disclaimer:** This is a work of total fiction, utilizing characters from Bruckheimer, CBS, etc. Any similarity to palces, people living or dead, or other fics, is entirely coincidental. Manufactured in a plant which processes peanuts. May pose a choking threat for children under three  
**Genre:** Idealist Fluff (my pattented fic genre, aka 'Boleynesque, lol)  
**Pairing: ** D/L - as if other pairings exist:)  
**A/N:** My post-Not What it Looks Like piece. This is how I would have written it, had I been on the NY writing team. :) I was craving fluff - luff the fluff! - and I wrote it shortly after the epi aired. It's nothing extraordinary, just written to epunge my squees - hopefully it will bring you one or two as well. This was posted on the DL forum (Chemistry) but I wanted to add it to my FFN 'portfolio' as well. Takes place immediately after 'The Hug'...

* * *

**A Barrier Broken **

The room is empty now, and he's still holding me.

Tightly.

The dust has settled, and other than the intense ringing in my ears, it is silent. All I can focus on are the two strong arms that have me wrapped up. His hands are continuously moving, stroking my hair and rubbing my back. It feels so familiar, so comfortable, so _right_. I cling to his shoulders, their firmness the only thing that is stable to me right now. More time passes, whether minutes or hours I don't know. Or care.

Danny shifts, pulling back slightly to look me over. "You sure you're okay?" he asks again, cradling my face in his hands. His touch is so gentle, it causes tears to sting at my eyes. I nod, trying to be brave.

"Fine, fine," I say, trying to reassure him. My own voice sounds foreign to me.

He exhales loudly. "Good, because I'm not." And for the third time, he pulls me tightly to his chest. I feel a shudder pass through his body. He is the one comforting me, holding _me_ up – yet he is shaken too.

I'm aware of footsteps approaching, though the realization takes a moment to navigate the dense fog in my brain. I tilt my head just enough to see Flack standing there, studying us curiously.

"Hey… guys?" he prods. "You, uh, about ready to head out of here?"

Danny and I pull apart, although my hands are still on his shoulders. I don't yet trust the strength of my own legs. He speaks for both of us, telling Flack, "We'll be right there." An understanding passes between the two men – subtle, but I catch it.

Flack nods, gesturing to me as he steps out of the doorframe and back into the dark hall. "Make sure you get checked out, Monroe" he says. "There's an ambulance outside."

Then he is gone, and it's just Danny and I again. I look up at him sheepishly, reluctant to leave this cozy moment behind. "I guess we can't stay here forever," I sigh, stepping away. I shiver – the absence of Danny's body pressed to mine has left me chilled. Noticing this, Danny puts his arm around my shoulder and rubs it gently.

"C'mon," he murmurs soothingly. "Let's go."

As we start to leave, I hesitate, glancing around the decimated room one last time. I can still see the burning, unyielding hate in Ghedi's eyes, and I am briefly overcome with a wave of nausea. "Get me out of here," I whisper. I take two steps and then my knees turn to jelly. Danny swiftly catches me as I stumble, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me.

"No," I argue, embarrassed at my weakness. "You don't have to-"

"What?" he chuckles, his breath warm and tingly in my ear. "This isn't the first time I've helped you out this way." I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck and resting my head on his shoulder. I'm too stunned to debate with him. Besides, being in his arms is hardly unpleasant. Danny carefully navigates the hallway, and I am thankful for the afternoon sunshine which greets us outside.

"Think you can stand?" he asks, setting me down gently only after I nod.

I am instantly seized by one of the paramedics, who has me sit on the back of an ambulance while she checks me over. She methodically yanks off my sweater, which is followed by the bulletproof vest, leaving me exposed in just a tank top. Danny stays with me, holding my hand. It's a simple gesture – such benign contact, but it signifies a change between us. It should feel odd, a bit awkward; but it feels as though our hands were meant to be webbed together like this. I squeeze his fingers as the blood pressure cuff digs painfully into my upper arm. He gives me a comforting smile.

"Your pulse is a little high," murmurs the paramedic, frowning as she presses her finger to my wrist. "But I guess that's understandable."

I nod numbly – of course my heart is pounding! Although I think the embrace Danny and I just shared has left me more breathless than anything else. She asks me a series of meaningless, basic questions.

"Any head pain?"

"No."

"Dizziness?"

"A little."

"Taste of blood in your mouth?"

"No."

"Ringing in your ears?"

"Uh… _yes_."

"Sharp pains anywhere in your torso or abdomen?"

"No." I don't mention the fluttering in my heart, since I don't know precisely which event was the true cause.

She looks in the my eyes, ears, and down my throat, then gives me a curt nod. "You can go."

As I stand and slip my sweater back on, Danny says, "Come on, I'm taking you home." The thought of my lonely, darkened apartment causes panic to rise in my chest.

"Please," I beg him. "Not yet. I don't want to be alone. Can we just… go for a walk?" I suggest. Maybe it will release my nervous energy.

For a minute I think he may refuse, but then he nods. "Sure," he says gently. I've never heard his voice like this – so soft, so calming.

And we walk.

We just go – not with a particular destination in mind, just _anywhere_. We are strolling; slow compared to the frantic bustle of people around us. Danny's arm is around my waist, lightly rubbing my skin with his thumb. He stops and buys me a cup of hot tea, which my trembling hands have trouble bringing to my lips. Still, the heat feels good in my grasp.

As we near Central Park, Danny points to an empty bench and suggests we sit. It seems as if we can no longer bear not touching: his arm goes around my shoulders, I slump against his chest. That feeling of shock, of numb relief, is starting to wear off. Reality is beginning to pummel me raw. I try resorting to sensory focus: I study the white and gray pigeons milling around at our feet, inhale the spicy smell from a nearby street vendor, and concentrate on the sound of the children yelling at the swing set. Inevitably, my focus returns to touch – Danny's skin, warm and surprisingly smooth on the back of my neck. The firmness of his chest which supports me. I know, with great clarity, that today has brought change.

I was almost killed, yes. But beyond that: Danny and I hugged. It was more than a hug – it was an embrace, an exchange, a barrier broken down. Things will be different now. I'm curious, and I have to know his feelings.

"Danny," I begin. "What did you think? When you were sitting out there in the van, and you heard the explosion?"

He laughs wryly, which surprises me. "Are you kidding me?" he asks. "I was already in the hallway when it went off."

"You came in the building?" I gape.

"The second I heard Ghedi say _'Who are you?',_ I was out of that van." He shook his head. "I didn't have a plan, I just had to get to you."

"You could have been killed!" I feel a little angry that he would endanger himself, then I am quickly humbled when it occurs to me that perhaps this is how Danny felt when I went undercover.

He pauses before responding. "I could have lost you, Lindsay. _That_ would have killed me."

"Did you think I was crazy to do it?"

"Yes," he replies without hesitation. "It was crazy and dangerous and careless. But you know what else? You amaze me, and make me so proud."

I push my face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent which has quickly become so addictive. I _like_ this: being this way with him, knowing him like _this_.

"Mmm," I murmur. "I don't want to go back, Danny."

His hands are wandering again, toying with my hair, caressing the inside of my forearm. "You don't have to," he says quietly. "I doubt Mac expects you back at work today."

I look up at him, and take his chin in my hand. "No, not the lab," I say. "I mean, us. I don't want to go back to being…" I swallow, "just coworkers."

Danny's other arm goes around my in a flash, tugging me up and onto his lap. He chuckles softly. "Oh, Montana. Were we ever _just coworkers_?"

I look at the bright sky above us, a smiling creeping across my face. How could a day that began so ugly – dead bodies and broken glass – end up so perfectly? I squirm deeper into Danny's lap, then tilt my head so that our noses are touching.

"Why don't you kiss me," I suggest teasingly, finally responding to his question, "and then I'll think about it."

He does just that.

He starts out with a soft peck, light as a rose petal, on the corner of my mouth. Gradually, he continues inward with a path of kisses that paralyze me. I am transfixed, unsure if I want to kiss back, or just savor this sensation. When his lips totally cover mine, there is no question. I kiss him back, deeply, tasting what I've been craving for so long now. A few passersby stare, and I have to fight the urge to giggle. Who ever would have thought I'd be making out with Danny Messer on a park bench? I love it.

Once we pull apart, I bite my lip nervously. This is really happening. "I want this so much," I say, running my finger along his jaw line, "but I'm afraid to trust it." I look up at him, and see so much warmth and emotion in his eyes – so much that it's almost hard to look him straight on. This is real. _At last_.

"How about if I buy you that diamond necklace, to prove myself?" he jokes.

I laugh. "What's a little carbon, compared to being with you?"

_Two Weeks Later_

My eyes are closed, but I'm no longer asleep. The rustling of sheets tells me I'm not the only one awake.

"Lindsayyyyy. Lindsay Monroooooe. I know you're awaaaaaake."

A finger slides under the sheet and begins tracing my backbone. I smile hard into my pillow, muffling laughter. It's a game we play, a game we have been playing since we started sharing a bed six days ago: toying with each other, seeing who will be the first to break.

"Time to get uuuuuup." Danny lifts my hair from the nape of my neck and begins nuzzling me there. The electrical charge from his stubble, sending a jolt all the way down to my toes, seals the deal: the battle is over.

"Okay, okay!" I laugh, rolling over onto my back. "I'm up, I'm up." I look at the clock on Danny's dresser, and am instantly annoyed.

"We don't have to be at work for two hours!" I moan. "Why did you wake me up so early?" I start to nestle back under the covers, but then I see the twinkle in Danny's eye. He leans over me, and I wrap my arms around his back. We kiss and kiss, parting only to gasp for air.

"What on earth could we possibly do with this extra time?" he murmurs, licking his lips as he looks down on me.

"I know!" I say seductively, taking a pause before I grin wickedly at him. "You could cook me a huge breakfast!"

He collapses fully on top of me – a feeling I have become accustomed to, but it still takes away my breath – in a good way.

"Montana," he mumbles into my neck. "I wasn't thinking of _food_." He yawns, then rests his head on my chest. I stroke his hair, just enjoying the tenderness of the moment. My mind travels back to that day two weeks ago. I smile as a thought occurs to me: the dynamite had broken down an unseen barrier that day, one that only Danny and I knew about. What had once stood between us – hesitation, doubt, and fear - was now nothing but a crumbled heap. What stands in its place is a bond of infinite trust and devotion and compassion.

And love.


End file.
